


Not Your Valentine

by Watermel0nBob



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watermel0nBob/pseuds/Watermel0nBob
Summary: This is a short spin off one-shot of my story More Than Enough, where Chili and Papyrus have a discussion about Valentine's Day. It could be canon or not, it's pretty open, but I was hoping to put a different spin on your standard holiday one-shot. I hope you all enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day to all of you beautiful people!!
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Not Your Valentine

“Hey, is it okay if we don’t do anything for Valentine’s Day?” You’d asked him at the end of a Hell’s Kitchen episode. He wasn’t particularly fond of the series, the head chef was incredibly rude and he felt there were better ways to help others improve. Alas, it had been your turn to choose, and such were the rules he couldn’t disagree.

What he could disagree on, however, was not doing anything with you for one of the most disturbing and romantic holidays humans had ever come up with!

The first year up on the surface, Papyrus had been utterly appalled at the array of soul shaped paraphernalia showcased down every shopping aisle, throwing it in one's face and practically saying “Look at me in all my lewd glory!” It had nearly made him sick, and the year after he’d been certain to remain scarce. Over time, and after much forced exposure therapy, he had come to tolerate the presence of the vulgar merchandise.

Despite his traumatic introduction, there were some things he admired about the holiday. Aside from the obvious perk of chocolate, and the amazing discounts offered the day after, he’d also come to enjoy the meaning behind it even more. Love. Romance. Every little campy cliche you could think up. Yup, Papyrus was a sucker for it.

His entire life he’d wondered what it’d be like to share those things with someone else. To dance under the moonlight barefoot, holding his lover close with the crickets’ cries playing a sweet melody. To wine and dine them at a candlelit meal, whispering sweet nothings over the table where no one could hear. Or to simply stare deeply into their eyes, and understand how they felt because words were never needed. Pondering had turned into hopes and dreams, and when he thought about what his future datemate would be like, he imagined someone who would want that just as much as him.

Then he’d met you, and had been quick to learn you had a different philosophy on the subject. Your love was soft, simple, and to the point. There were no waxing poetics, sappy love songs or grand gestures with you. You were the type of person who showed your love sparingly, but when you did it was nothing but genuine.

Like his favorite dinner made with care after a particularly rough day, paired with a listening ear for him to rant about what went wrong. Or a passionate speech filled with wisdom when he felt like he wasn’t enough, that ended with a tender kiss and promise that tomorrow would be better. No, you didn’t enjoy the theatrics of love, romance and everything in between, but your uncanny ability to make him feel like he was the greatest monster in the world more than made up for it.

It was because of this, and all the other wonderful ways you showed you loved him, that he felt a strong need to reciprocate in kind. What better way than to smother you in flowers, chocolates and one of those giant teddy bears, before whisking you away for a romantic dinner where the food was good and the view better? To him, it was the only and obvious solution, yet here you were denying him the opportunity.

He wanted to refuse, he wouldn’t stand by and let you not be adored on a day his beloved was supposed to be adored! He wanted to shout from the rooftops his undying love for you, to tell the world how beautiful you were, because everyone needed to know just how lucky a man he was to have you. But he couldn’t, it wasn’t what you wanted, and at the end of the day Papyrus would lasso you the moon should you ask for it. So instead he pulled you closer, pressed a skeleton kiss into your hair and revelled in the scent that was uniquely you.

  
  


“IF THAT IS WHAT YOU WANT MY DEAR. WE CAN REFRAIN FROM PARTAKING IN THE FESTIVITIES.”

  
  


“You sure? I know that stuff is kinda your thing...” You sounded uncertain, a rare occurrence for your usual confident demeanor. He smiled, and tilted your head with a single finger to search your eyes. His expression was earnest when he leaned down to kiss you, pouring every ounce of loving Intent he could muster into it. You were happy to return the gesture, the sweet sigh following sent shivers up his spine. When he pulled away he was gifted with a dopey expression, a look he found adorable. Stars, he was so happy to have you.

  
  


“I’M CERTAIN! I DON’T NEED A HOLIDAY TO REMIND ME JUST HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU.” That was the right thing to say, the flush across your face was beautiful, and he longed to kiss every inch of skin covered in it. You shoved him slightly, clearly embarrassed by your overwhelming feelings and tried to deflect in the way you knew best.

  
  


“Ugh, you’re such a sap. I’m gonna get a cavity if you keep that shit up,” you pouted, crossing your arms childishly. He chuckled, trailing phalanges along your shoulder before lightly tweaking your nose.

  
  


“YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR TOOTHBRUSH IS.”

  
  


“I’m done with you. Go to bed.”

  
  


“GLADLY!” The look he gave you in response was devious. It had always been easy for him to scoop you up into his arms, and this time was no different as he eagerly carried you to the bedroom. His intention was clear, and you tried your best to act put off, but as soon as he had you beneath him and his teeth against your neck your protests had turned into pleas for more. He may not get a special, hopelessly romantic day dedicated to loving you, but at least he could have this.

  
  


He wouldn’t trade it for the world.


End file.
